A Long Way
by LogsForBurning
Summary: From the bottom, all you can do is rise. At the top, you have quite a few more options. Rating it T for now, may change depending on how the story progresses. First fanfic, criticism appreciated. Romance won't be introduced until later, but I intend for it to be a pretty large theme.
1. Chapter 1

You stagger back, eyes widened to unnatural sizes, mouth open in utter horror. Even in the darkness outside your home, you know from the telltale taste of bile in your mouth that the unthinkable has happened. You know that despite the pouring rain, you can still be seen; that they can see you, or more specifically- they can see what they've done to you. You know that despite your hand clenched firmly around your injured forearm that the damage is done.

You look up, eyes still bulging, mouth still open, and see that they look much the same as you. Their faces are pale, the fear in their eyes- evident. The leader of the gang- a well proportioned if not somewhat stocky young boy- looks the worst of them. He actually looks on the verge of tears, panic so clearly etched upon his face. With a barely audible gasp, the small kitchen knife clenched in his hand is thrown away as his hands fly up to his mouth, scarcely believing what he sees so plainly before him. The soft clatter of the knife on the ground breaks the near silence.

The gang of teens runs.

They run as fast as they can.

The injured boy's thought process finally catches up with the situation. He sees them running. He _knows_ what they plan to do; what they're _trained _to do. And so in calming his breath, the injured boy tears off a strip of his shirt- black, just for such an eventuality- ties it around his wound firmly, reaffirms his resolution, and sprints after them.

He knows he has to catch them before they can find someone in a position of authority. He knows he has to kill them before they can find one. There can be no mercy, because would mercy be shown to them, none would be shown to him.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and without a shadow of a doubt, you know you have to prevent your blood color from becoming known, at all costs.

**...**

_Note: This is my first real attempt at fanfiction. I don't know how good it will be, but I've got a fair idea of what I want this to do, so hopefully it turns out good. If nothing else, hopefully this will improve my writing skills a bit. Criticism welcome._


	2. Chapter 2

Your blood pounds in your ears as you start your frantic chase after the small gang. As you keep sprinting, your eyes gradually settle from the initial fear and sickness onto something more determined, something more deadly. You run down quiet, mostly deserted streets, hoping against hope that there aren't yet any adults out at such a late time. Taking a bend at random, you realize that you don't see any signs of movement, and dread grips your throat once more. It isn't until you notice a silhouette flash briefly ahead of you that your heart beats again, and take off once more, with steeled resolution. Light from the neighboring hives illuminates parts of your path, and gives clues as to where they ran off to. You notice another brief flicker of motion off to the right, and as you follow the motion, you realize that you've reached a dead-end. Or rather, they have.

Your eyes settle firmly on the nearest of the three trolls- a Gemini. With a muddled mind, and darkened heart, your most basic instinct kicks into gear; kill or be killed. And with that thought dominating your mind, you wordlessly retrieve your sickle. The Gemini possesses some amount of psionic abilities- typical of his sign, you vaguely recall- and attempts to fly off. With a quick jump, you hook your weapon on his foot and pull him to your reach. Despite the nubs you loathe to call your horns, you can put them to good use, especially when it comes to disorienting your enemies, and you use them to bash his forehead. As the Gemini slumps to the ground, you push your sickle down, through his thoracic cavity, and out somewhere near his stomach. A sickening crunching noise accompanies this, and for a moment, you think you are going to be sick. As a splash of mustard yellow strikes the ground near your feet, you vaguely wonder whether or not you would be able to tell your vomit apart from his blood. The Gemini slumps to the ground, eyes wide and mouth parted in pain.

You turn to face the two other trolls, both sporting Ares symbols. Rust bloods. The lowest of the low, and possessing next to no abilities other than unusual strength. For a second, you almost consider yourself fortunate that your blood color- or perhaps your visceral murder of their friend- has terrified them into a nearly comatose state. As you lash your sickle across each of their throats, you hear but two strangled gasps, before they slump over, their blood pooling together and diffusing in the persistent shower.

Realizing that you're safe once more, your body convulses, a mixture of relief and self-loathing as you realize what you've done, three more lives on your hands, for no reason other than the horrible aberration that is your blood. You slump down, adrenaline and fear slowly running out of you, leaving you feeling drained and utterly empty. With a listless gaze, you turn your head and see the rusty blood water pooling around your feet and the seat of your pants; and with a morbid laugh, you realize that their blood is so similar to yours, separate only by a little saturation, separate by some minuscule genetic difference, that were it not present, you might be able to call these people your friends, maybe have someone to relate to, or to share your interests with. And it is with that thought that your body scrapes your already depleted emotional tanks even further.

You sit, and you cry. You sob silently into your sleeve, teeth digging into the loose fabric as you desperately try to keep yourself quiet- even now, you can't alert anyone to you. Despite overt acts of violence and murder being common in troll society, bringing attention to yourself only brings more trouble, as you discovered well in the past. So you sit, tears streaming down your face, with great breathless sobs causing your chest to heave and pound painfully. As you sit, your anguish slowly becomes frustration, your frustration turns into anger, and your anger coalesces into a dense, grey mass of hatred. Hatred towards others, hatred to the blood spectrum, hatred towards the universe for making you this way, but above all, hatred towards yourself, for allowing yourself to get in this situation at all.


	3. Chapter 3

It's bright here, artificial lighting filling the vast room before you with soft golden light. The seawater filling your personal chambers sometimes breaks the light apart, throwing rainbows about, casting shades of greens, blues, yellows, and every other color of the rainbow about your already bright fuchsia walls. To anyone else, this would likely be an eyesore, but to you, it's perfect. You adore seeing the colors dance, the currents in your room refracting the light about in a constant strobe. To make matters even better, you have dozens, if not hundreds, of cuttlefish that swim and laze about your room, which only adds to the erratic technicolor display around you. You adore each and every one of them like your own grub, to be raised tenderly and carefully for their entire lives. Giving a light push off your squid-tiled floor, you come to rest floating in the tropical waters that surround and fill your hive. Cautious of the multitude of cages floating around- the supposed home to your throngs of cuttlefish- you come to rest on your back, floating idly, letting the currents rock you back and forth. As the tide rolls, it begins to lull you to sleep, a content little smile creeping across your naturally beautiful face. Your cheekbones are high, your hair- long and black as the deepest waters in the Alternian oceans. Your nose is gently turned up, rounded into nothing short of perfect- and without a blemish in sight. Your lips are full and glossy by nature, and covered with even more gloss to give an unnatural shine. Your finned ears, pierced multiple times with gold rings and jeweled studs spread gently as you subconsciously guide them into keeping your head still in the waves, as your thoughts slowly drift off to nothing but the calming environment around you. Your breathing softens, and as your body drifts in time with the currents around you, you doze off.

Not long after you settle down to a nap, your long lashes flicker with motion as a stray thought presses itself back into the forefront of your mind. With a little gasp, your eyes snap open and, after a brief shake of your head to clear the remnant sleep haze, you swim quickly off to another chamber of the massive palace you call a hive. You remember giddily that you have a few important guests visiting, and you can't leave them waiting!

As you swim, your eyes- a deep magenta, flecked and ringed with the brightest gold- twinkle happily. You realize that you couldn't possibly be happier than you currently are.

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and at 6 sweeps old, you are the Empress Apparent to the throne of the multi-world dominion that is Alternia.

As you swim through one of the mostly empty corridors of your palace, you glance outside, through the open-water portholes that line that hall. You realize that it would be much quicker to simply swim through the ocean proper. You realize that the ocean proper is much more dangerous than the familiar interior of your hive-palace, but you brush that thought away with a grin almost immediately; you know your lusus Gl'bgolyb- the creature that inspired (terrified) Troll-H.P. Lovecraft into his writings- would never let you come to harm- though she may have strong words for you later. Brushing that thought off with another, even larger grin, you grip the smooth stone hole in the wall, and launch yourself into the ocean with full speed.

Despite your lavish and worry-free lifestyle which has left you with a softer than average body, you have still maintained a powerful stroke, coursing through the waters with ease. You glance down to the darkest reaches of the oceans and for a moment, you think you see motion, and you wonder if you've managed to alert your lusus to your activities already. With her, it always seems to be that way though, so you simply raise your hand and wave it vigorously in her general direction. She will probably get the message; she always has before.

As you approach the uppermost level of your hive, you slow your speed, and compose yourself- as befitting of the Empress-to-Be. In doing so, you float gently towards the massive doors that separates the ocean from this particular chamber. Making a short motion, a team of aquatic lusii push heavily upon the doors, and release a deluge of seawater into the previously dry room. As soon as you make it through the room, the lusii pull the door shut once more. Putting on your best and most welcoming smile, you walk gently over to a raised dais in the center of the room, ascend the stairs, and seat yourself upon the throne. The three trolls standing nearby snap upright almost the instant they see you, and bow their heads as one towards you.

Raising your voice just loud enough for them to be able to hear, you say,

")(I TH-ER-E! W)(at are all your names?"


	4. Chapter 4

You are slumped upon the cold stone of the apartment block behind you. Somewhere in the gaps between your fits of grief and self-loathing, you found the clarity of mind to hide the bodies behind the nearby trashbins, hopefully staying hidden at least until the next sunset. Your gaze drifts lifelessly towards the sky; still overcast, though the rain had recently let up. You watch the clouds as the roil about above you, idly wondering if they look the same as the waves of the sea. As you watch the turbulent sky, your eyes begin to droop, the adrenaline in your body now completely drained. You wonder if anyone would mistake you for just another corpse in the streets if they walked by. Maybe your life would be easier that way, you think bitterly. Just another body on the insurmountable pile that is Alternian culture. As this thought drifts from your mind, your body finally shuts down completely, and you pass out- cold, tired, and utterly, hopelessly, alone.

While it isn't long before your eyes reopen, you feel like you only blinked once before opening them again. Your body, on the other hand, is telling you that your blink lasted far, far, longer than it should have. As you look around you, you realize that you can see things much clearer than you could not two hours ago. Almost too clearly, in fact. The brightness surrounding you makes your head throb, your vision over-saturated with colors, and GOD, the heat. It's oppressive. You realize with a start that night must have passed into morning- and that fact put you in near mortal danger. You attempt to stand quickly, only succeeding in falling to your hands and knees. Your body cries out with agony, the cold and wet from the previous night had seeped deep into your bones, leaving you achy- and judging from the nausea and chills you feel wracking your spine- pneumonitic. Gasping for air, you stagger back up weakly, and try to stop your head from spinning. You manage this after a brief minute of leaning against the still-cold wall of the apartment beside you, and you begin your wavering trek home, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible.

The hellish sun of Alternia is relentless, and the day reaches near unbearable temperatures in no short order. Your lusus used to tell you to look for the silver lining in every bad situation, and you realize that at least you won't have to worry about being seen, or being culled for your apparent weakness. Staggering breathlessly against the wall next to you, body faulty with tremors from the cold of the night before and sweat coursing down your brow from the steadily rising temperatures during Alternian days, you push yourself harder. Your hive is still another fifteen minutes staggering-shuffle away from here, or so you judge, and you know that if you stay out any longer than necessary, you risk death as all the moisture in your body is ripped slowly from you.

Rounding another bend, you see your hive at the end of the block, and you walk faster yet. You can feel the skin on your neck blistering and peeling, and your horns burn like they're on fire. As you finally come up to your door, you slump forward, body fully colliding with it, and you slump to the ground. You try to pull yourself up to the doorknob, but your arms are no longer working with you. Your vision swims, and fades to darkness. Just before you pass out again, you hear a clattering rush, and your door is nearly ripped off its hinges by a tall crab-like creature- relief clearly etched atop a night's worth of worrying on its crustacean visage. You attempt to greet your lusus, but the effort it takes is enough to send you over the edge, and you pass out just as you see your lusus gently lifting you up, your burns and discomfort all but forgotten in your exhaustion.

You awake some time later, nestled deeply within the cool and comforting embrace of your recuprecoon. A look outside your window tells you that it's dark again, so at least 12 hours have passed since you somehow managed to make it home without dying in one horrible way or another. As you shift around in the gel that's surrounding you, you wince- you reach up and gingerly touch your neck, and you feel blisters and cracked skin pulling against one another. You sigh dejectedly, as you realize that your next few days will be couple with both physical pain, and emotional pain as well. Glancing around- without twisting your neck- you notice that your husktop was moved nearer to your cocoon than you remember; Your lusus must have put it close to you, anticipating your desires when you woke up. You decide you'll have to thank him for that whenever you're capable of moving from the cocoon. Reaching up and gently peeling the gel off your arms and hands, you flip open your husktop, and you see that someone is online on Trollian. You don't even need to glance at your Troll Roll to see who it is- you only have one friend listed, and you see a single line message was left for you sometime while you were sleeping.

— twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] —

[TA]: hey KK ii dont know why iin the fuck youre offline riight now but AA found thii2 game and ii thiink youll liike iit. let me know.

— twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] —

With a tired raise of an eyebrow, you type back a reply;

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] —

[CG]: WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU BULGEMUNCHER.


	5. Chapter 5

His arms are locked to his sides, head parallel with the ground beneath his feet, body bent at a near 90 degree angle. Even from here, you can tell that he has his knees rigid, and his legs are straighter than the trident you have allocated to your strife specibus. Frankly, you're shocked he hasn't passed out yet. That kind of contortion can't be safe at all, you think. And yet, you can't help but stare at him. He just looks so ridiculous! He has a massive violet cape on, along with a similarly massive collar flare- you barely repress a snigger, the thing is almost touching his horns for Troll Christ's sake! As his body shakes a little more, his cape- which was previously perfectly aligned between his shoulders- slips off to one side, and the gaudy golden chain that acted as its clasp pulls up tight into his neck, and right into one of his gills. He suddenly jerks as the cold metal presses directly into fairly tender flesh, but he still doesn't move. It isn't until you hear him start wheezing and hissing with significant pain- something you can certainly sympathize with, it's happened to you enough, you think- that you remember you've been staring, and that he was still bowed and in pain.

Oh.

OH!

You jump down from your throne and running over to the wheezing troll, shouting at him to stand up that he glances up at you. And the eyes that you see staring back at you are wide, and quite frankly terrified. He pulls himself back into a standing position, and starts to back away from you when one of his feet catch on his cape, and he falls over backwards into a pile of thrashing limbs and flying fabric; and before you can help yourself, you find yourself doubled over with gasping laughter. The other troll's limbs stop flying after a few seconds, and his head pops out to stare at you with open confusion. You glance back up at the troll lying on his back, and noticing that he isn't struggling with keeping his limbs in line any longer, you manage to calm yourself down enough to ask;

"Hey, hey, are you alright?"

If the look he was giving you before you spoke up was confusion, the look he now gave you was something akin to complete and utter bewilderment. His mouth hanging open, and head cocked slightly to one side, like that was the last thing he was expecting to hear out of your mouth.

Well. Considering some of the stories about the current Empress, that actually sort of makes sense. Instead, you walk over to him, and crouch down to sit on your heels by him. With one hand on your knees, you reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, and say;

"Hey! Answer me, are you alright?", with actual concern this time.

The sudden command seemed to have shocked him back into reality, you decide.

"Ah, yeah, I'm jus'- I mean, I'm fine, thank you, Empress," he stammers out. He glances down, and sees your hand on his shoulder, and his otherwise cold and gray face suddenly flushes deeply.

"I..I'm fine Empress, really, no reason for you to be worrying about me" You decide that he still looks rigid and, if you had to put a word to it, formal- or at least making a valiant attempt at it.

Standing back up, you reach a hand down towards him, and with a smile, you say;

"Lighten up! No need to act so formal here, 's not like I'm gonna CULL you or anything!"

At this, his previously flushed face blanches almost instantly, and is coupled once again with a mixture of fear and confusion. Despite this, he still shakily reaches his hand out to grasp yours lightly, and you tug him upright with minimal effort, likely due to his slightly buoyant bones. Either that, or he's just particularly light.

"You mean, er.. Her Highness ISN'T going to cull this pitiful troll?"

"Uh, no.. I don't think so. And I don't think you're pitiful- besides- aren't we a little young for that" You ask with more than a little hesitancy.

"OH! No, no no no no, I didn't mean it like that, Highness! Just, I mean I-"

"Hey, didn't I say relaaax? And you still haven't told me your name!" You giggle a little at the foreign troll's obvious discomfort and flustering.

"Oh cod, I'm sorry," He says with a sigh and a visible sag of his shoulders. My name's Eridan Ampora. Figured that since I 'ad never introduced myself to your Highness a'fore that I'd arrange an audience with you, and introduce m'self, make a good first impression with the future Empress of Alternia 'n all that. Load a' good that did, though. Jus' ended up embarassin' myself in front of the most powerful troll on the planet." Another sigh, and a sad grimace, you note.

"Well Eridan, my name's Feferi Peixes. And I think you worry too much!", you say with an ear to ear grin. "Wanna go huntin with me? My lusus hasn't been fed yet, and if she doesn't eat soon, we might have some problems!

His face reads a mix of emotions, and speaks volumes. You're pretty sure that he's thinking something like, "Can this girl REALLY be the heiress to the throne of Alternia?". Eventually his face settles on something close to bemusement, and with a little smile and a cocked eyebrow, he nods.

"GREAT! Then let's go! Can't keep Globby waiting for long!", you say with another grin.

Months later, though not many, you're sitting on the shore of Eridan's hive, the looming boat casting long shadows besides you both. It had been another day of hunting lusii to feed your gargantuan one, and you were both feeling exhausted, and you felt like you were going to keel over any second when you hear Eridan speak up;

"So, Fef, have you heard of somethin' called Trollian? It's a new Instant Messaging system; supposed to be pretty cod damn good."

Glancing over at him, you say "Yeah, I've heard of it. Haven't gotten around to getting it yet, though. Have you?"

With a nod, he replied "Yeah, everyone I FLARP with has one, so I got one to keep up with them. Th'only reason I ask is because there's this new FLARP campaign coming out called SGrub, and now that we're finishin' up this last'ne, I was wondering if you wanted to get in'it at all."


End file.
